


That’s Supposed to be My Job

by avagueidea



Series: It's Still Happening [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (nothing super graphic on the injuries), Banter and Smut, Epilogue(sort of), Established Relationship, Few Years Down the Road, M/M, battlefield injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avagueidea/pseuds/avagueidea
Summary: A few years into saving the universe, Lance and Keith are on a mission together.It's banter, smut, and battlefield injuries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this is a follow up to [**It Just Keeps Happening**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7999129). But it doesn’t directly reference anything so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ you can just read this if you _really_ wanted.

       “I'm supposed to be the reckless one. Why are you **_always_** the one almost dying?" Keith asked in an angry pant. Despite his tone, Lance's head was in his lap and he clutched his hand in what could only be described as a death grip, and really, given his wounds, that was clearly Lance’s job. Keith had thrown himself to the ground next to Lance as soon as he’d cleared out every single enemy combatant in a fucking kilometer radius. Lance had been the one to shoot out the communications tower, though, so really the only reason they weren’t about to be swamped by a small army’s worth of reinforcements was because of him. He’d save that bragging point for later when Keith was acting like he did this mission all by himself, though.

       "Heh, I guess I'm just better at being reckless than you too," Lance threw back with a pained smirk as he tried to lift himself up on his elbow. He flopped back down onto Keith’s lap. Yeah, no, that arm wasn’t really useful at the moment and Keith refused to let go of the other one. Keith, who had still been scanning for enemies, had to do a double take to properly glare at him.

       "Really, Lance?" Keith asked dryly.

       "Oh yeah. While you're busy throwing all that recklessness around willy nilly, I'm saving it all up so I can use it at juuuust the right moment. Like when you're about to get your mullet ruined from a shot to the back of the head," he replied, voice tight as he tried to ignore the overall throbbing of his, well, everything it felt like right then.

       "Okay. Yeah I get it; you're my hero, Lance. Now shut up for a second," Keith insisted. Keith was still on full alert. His free left hand was clutching his bayard almost as hard as Lance's hand. It hurt a bit if Lance was being completely honest, but less than other thing so he wasn’t letting up his grip either. It was... reassuring. They fit together even in moments like this.

       "Aww, you're my hero too, Keith," Lance cooed back. Shit. His blood loss must be worse than he realized if he was talking like that. Keith looked down for just a second at that goofy smile and almost smiled back before a sound to his left demanded his attention. He was on his feet in a second, dropping Lance to the ground without hesitation.

       "Ow! Shit Keith. You go on so much about that moment we had all those years ago, you know, when you cradled me in your arms while I was ‘dying’! Now, you're just throwing me to the ground! I'm pretty sure you made up the last time," Lance complained, not bothering to try to lift himself up again. He had taken a hit to his torso, and while it wasn’t deep, it still hurt to shift too much. He kept his bayard at the ready, just in case he _had_ to do something. He just hoped that something didn’t involve sitting up.

        “I didn’t. We had a bonding moment,” Keith said in a hushed even tone as he scanned the area seriously.

        “Maybe we did, but if you dropped me then like you did just now, I might have just forgotten it from all the brain damage,” Lance theorized.

        “La-,” Keith stopped before his comeback even had a chance to formulate. He jumped to attention at another noise to his left. He turned about to see a large sheet of metal creek again before falling off the still burning communication tower. It clattered to the ground a few dozen feet away and then there was that post battle silence again. Lance had gotten to know it fairly well over these past few years during on planet missions. It wasn’t absolute silence, there was still the sound of the world around them burning and broken, but nothing living. Wild life scattered during a battle, which means when the enemy fled it was just them and the wreckage. After a long pause Keith seemed satisfied and walked back over to Lance.

        “Come on. Let’s get back to base and signal for a rendezvous,” Keith suggested, still looking over his shoulder.

        “Oh yes, let me just hop up on my _perfectly fine leg_ and hobble on over,” Lance agreed glancing meaningfully down at the gushing wound on his left side.

        “Oh, well, if you can walk I guess I won’t bother helping,” Keith said. Lance wasn’t sure when Keith had become really fucking sassy, but laying there in the dirt he was… a little proud, actually. Now was not the time, though.

        “Put your sarcasm away for some time I’m not bleeding out, all right mullet man?” Lance snipped, wincing as he put too much emphasis in his words and shifted one of his many scars. Keith was already crouching down next to him.

        “Yeah, I got you,” Keith murmured. Lance let Keith prop him up and do a quick dressing of his wounds, but Lance knew there would need to be at least some stitches and a splint involved in this patch up job. Keith did his best with what was on hand though. He shifted back, then, sliding arms under Lance’s shoulder and knees. “Ready?” he asked.

        “As ready as I’m gonna be! Let’s do this,” Lance half shouted. Keith looked a little irritated. He was pretty sure he was still worried about there being enemy combatants around. Lance wasn’t. Lance knew Keith was thorough as fuck, especially when he was protecting an injured paladin. One time, Pidge had been shot. Wow! Keith went nuts securing a safe perimeter for Hunk to give her stitches. He literally had made Lance help him picked up big pieces of debris and contrast a make-shift shelter. This time it he didn’t have to _build_ them a safe place, but it was a bit of a walk to get there. They’d set up base camp when they started this whole stake out mission and it was well supplied in food, water, and a pretty nice little field med-kit. Most importantly there were some anesthetics that Lance was reeeeaaaally looking forward right now.

       Lance winced as he was shifted in Keith’s arm until the red paladin had a solid grip. To Keith’s credit, he took all Lance’s complaining in stride and adjusted until they had a good compromise. Lance wished he could help hold himself up, but he really probably did need a splint for his forearm. Keith, being Keith, didn’t complain, he just started off towards their hideyhole.

       Actually, Keith didn’t complain to the point that Lance got a little worried. Or, well, if he wasn’t so damn exhausted he’d have been worried. At the moment it was just sort of nice being pressed so close to Keith… He was a little tired. He felt his head lull against Keith’s shoulder. Really, it was unfair to start. Their mission had shifted into full gear right at the end of Lance’s shift on watch, so he was ready to pass out before the action had even started.

       Keith took a sharp step and he was jarred back upright. He glanced at Keith’s face and he seemed tense.

        “Heeeey, what are you worrying about?” Lance asked, throwing a grin sloppily onto his face.

        “You’re getting blood all over me,” Keith replied, evenly. He was trying not to show how troubled he was; which Lance thought was sort of cute, worrisome, but cute.

        “Nah, babe, it’ll wash right out,” Lance replied. Keith hummed in agreement, but refused to untense himself.

       There was another silence until Keith piped up, “We’re almost there, just… stay awake for a bit,” he insisted.

        “You think I’d miss you fretting over me? Of course I’m gonna stay awake,” he replied with a laugh.

 

       Keith had made pretty decent time over uneven terrain and with a big heavy armful of Lance. He set Lance down and it was quite possibly the gentlest Keith had ever been with him (okay, maybe excluding the first time Keith fucked him. But he was so nervous then he could barely breath without asking if it was okay…). He set him down as soon as they entered their makeshift residence. He then practically ran around the tiny living area they’d set up, adjusting all their equipment to make sure they’d be safe and help would be on its way. When he’d finished, he snagged up the med-kit and slid right back to Lance’s side.

       Keith was gently removing Lances armor. Sometimes he forgot how much it sucked how perfectly fitted the suits were to each paladin, but in moments like this he isn’t sure how. To get to the wounds Keith first had to pull off the armor around it, which just stretched and moved his wounds and all Lance wanted to do and curl up and wait for them to magically disappear. He knew he was making faces, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He scrunched up his nose and pinched his mouth together to keep from making any horrible whining noises. Well, he made SOME whining noises, but significantly less than he would have if he was doing this himself. Gotta make sure to look good for the bae, right? Right.

       Once Lance was basically naked, because honestly he’d managed to get hit with a full barrage and while their suits were protective, he still had nicks and wounds of varying degrees everywhere. Keith started by checking the ones he’d done the quickie dressing for. Luckily the shot on his side was doing fine and just needed to be cleaned up and redressed in some real bandages. The arm _did_ need a splint, though Keith thought it was just a fracture. He set it for him. All the while he was explaining his work mindlessly as he went.

        “I’m going to put some local anesthesia on here and disinfect it and then I’m going to stitch the wound on your leg up,” he explained. Lance groaned.

        “Yeah, okay, just do it. I don’t need a play by play, man,” Lance insisted, getting impatient. He’d known the stitches were coming and the anticipation was starting to get to him. Keith nodded dutifully and set in to his task.

       Now, the first time they had had to do stitches on the field they had not had any anesthetic and, even if Lance knew it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as that time, he couldn’t get the memory of it out of his head. The anticipation was always the worst. Once it started, Lance mostly just felt a little queasy at that tugging sensation he could still feel through the numbing. It was unsettling and he didn’t know how everyone else could deal with it so damn well. It probably didn’t help that he was always waiting for the pain of those first stitches. The whole process just made his skin crawl numbed or not.

       "I am really missing those healing pods about now," Lance said, wincing at every tug. The number of times he'd held himself together, literally, on these battle fronts away from the castle, well, it was more than once and that was too many. He refused to stop complaining about it though. The paladins had all taken to being so gracious about all the bullshit they put up with. Lance felt the need to remind them this really _was_ bullshit they had to deal with it all. He’d do it of course, because he was awesome, but that didn’t mean it didn’t suck. Lance sighed, “I guess it’s better than bleeding out,” he added.

       "Glad Shiro made me learn all that battlefield first aid stuff back on earth now,” Keith noted, slicing of the end of thread with a fine blade formed from his bayard. He couldn't change the full form of it, like making it go from a sword to a gun or the like, but most types of cutting tools he could produce. Pidge had managed to be the most diverse out of everyone with their bayards thus far, but Lance was catching up fast.

       "Thank you Shiro," Lance said up towards the ceiling, to space. Shiro was out there somewhere, orbiting and probably trying to locate their signatures through the dampener set up around the planet to disrupt invading forces. It did a damn good job blocking out the signal from both their bayard and suits. Lance supposed this would all be too easy otherwise, right?

       Keith chuckled quietly at him as he re-dressed a final wound. He’d gone over all of them with the handheld device that had some small similarities to the healing pods. Lance still had no idea how either of them worked and would be the first to tell you this thing was no replacement for a nap in the pods. It did its job as temporary reinforcement to the battlefield patch jobs, though. He vaguely remembered someone (probably Coran) going on about it stimulating cellular regrowth, or… was it just space magic? He was fairly certain he had a few broken fingers at the time so he wasn’t really in the mood for a lecture on alien, space magic.

       "This one's slowing down. Doesn't seem to need any stitches." Lance audibly sighed with relief. Keith took offense. "Oh stop. I'm at least quick. You take forever!"

       "Hey! Maybe I don't want to leave any scars," Lance snipped back, but he really meant he didn't _want_ any scars. He knew Keith didn't mind them. They were badges of honor right down to the missing eye. They'd almost finished making his new one, Pidge's collaboration with an old friend from the outer planets, some tree creatures Lance was pretty sure, which didn’t seem like the best people to make a human eye but, hey! What did Lance know? He wondered, though, if Keith would even accept it. He seemed to relish the challenge of sword fighting and piloting with one eye. It would be really dumb, but Lance could definitely see him refusing. Some sort of pride thing sparking up in him, like it would somehow be cheating to get a new eye.

       "You think I'll leave a scar?" Keith asked raising an eyebrow, though it was above the missing eye and the only indication was the shifting of the patch. Lance would actually miss that once the new eye was in. He'd never appreciated the fact that Keith could only raise an eyebrow on one side. He also smirked almost as exclusively to one side. It was the opposite side. He liked noticing those sorts of things about Keith, new things…

       "No, babe. You always do a great job. I'm just saying, I try to avoid GIVING scars," he clarified, too charmed by the eye patch moving to be snarky.

       "You don't like my scars?" Keith asked, frowning lightly. It was a fake frown; a technique he had learned from a master (that master of course being Lance). He was fishing for compliments. He knew Lance liked his scars. Well, specifically, he knew Lance had the tendency, when they had the time, to kiss every last one.

       "I have a fondness for a few of them," Lance admitted. His favorite was undoubtedly the one that started on his upper, inner thigh and trailed around back just under the curve of his ass, because, damn; he'd trail his tongue over the entire length of it. Keith still wouldn't say how he got that one, but Lance thought up some fairly amusing stories for it.

       Lance hissed when Keith tugged the final tie into the makeshift sling around his arm. "Ow!" he snipped accusingly.

       "Oh calm down, it's just your arm. Your leg is way worse," he said, as if that made it better.

       "Oh, yeah, thanks for reminding me," Lance muttered. He'd been doing a good job ignoring the throbbing of his leg for a bit there. "Uhhhhg, why'd it have to be my right arm? How am I gonna do anything without my right hand?"

       "You've become a fairly good shot off-hand" Keith noted. He'd hopped to his feet to check the proximity alerts and make sure their stealth cloak was still working. They had finished their mission. Everything should be quieting down, assuming Allura, Coran, and Hunk had done their part. They'd helped with a coup, honestly. But a civilian government should be stepping in soon. Either way, the two of them were just laying low until Pidge spotted them from the castle and Shiro swooped in to snag them up.

       "Yeah well, that's because I'm awesome," he agreed, "but what about everything else?"

       "I guess you'll just have to sit back and let me help you out with your hand’s other usual duties," Keith said with a shrug. He was taking his time really checking over everything now that he’d made sure Lance wasn’t going to die. Lance wouldn’t have died anyway. The injuries weren’t _that_ bad, or at least they’d all had far worse at this point. After some time, Keith seemed satisfied and his rounds brought him back to Lance. When he dropped back down, he did so right on Lance's lap, a leg to either side of his hips.

       "I take it everything's in order?" Lance asked, settling back as Keith released clasp after clasp, pulling off his armor. Lance had been stripped down to his underwear when Keith had set to patching him up, but he would have been anyway as soon as they were shielded. Keith wasn’t usually so quick to strip, but even he sighed with relief to be free of the suit after such a long, tense mission. The paladin suits were incredibly comfortable, of course, as far as armor went, but stripping down and letting your whole body breath was always nice.

       The miniature strip show right in his lap was a pleasant surprise. Watching Keith shrug off piece after piece, Lance had to wonder if he realized the display he was putting on at all. Knowing Keith, probably not. More often Keith just did what he did with no idea it was making Lance's heart stutter with each gesture. It was cute when he actually tried too, of course. He’d get serious and sometimes forget to even look at Lance, but his face when he kinda chewed his tongue in concentration with that tiny bit of a flush too… Well, Lance couldn't decide which he liked better. At moments like this, though, he could just watch Keith forever and be happy because, goddamn he was handsome.

       Lance's eye finally trailed up, following along with Keith's hands to run through his hair. Their eyes met then and Lance realized how long he’d been gawking. Keith was stripped down to his tight black pants under the suit.

       "Yeeeeah, you're definitely gonna have to help with a right hand issue," he noted. Keith, for a moment didn't seem to get it. Then a smile cracked over his face and he snorted as he finished putting his hair up.

       "That was the plan from the get go," he assured.

       "Okay, as long as **this** plan isn't gonna get me shot,” Lance teased, glancing meaningfully to his arm in a sling. Keith rolled his hips in a perfect little circle in response. Okay, so, maybe he'd be willing to get shot again for this plan after all. It seemed like a very good plan.

        “I didn’t get you shot,” Keith insisted.

        “Well, I got shot and it hurt like hell either way,” Lance snipped back.

       "I'll be gentle," Keith promised simple and Lance nearly laughed. What a line coming from Keith! Keith noted the doubt and frowned lightly. His hand shot forward and to Lance’s face. Holding his chin, he ran his thumb gently over a split lip, which had just recently stopped bleeding. Lance took a sharp anticipatory breath, expecting it to hurt but, true to his word, Keith was incredibly gentle, barely grazing the skin. All the same, he felt his body tighten, a prickle of adrenaline rolling through him, readying him for the possibility of pain.

       Keith, apparently, knew exactly what he was doing, because he rolled his hips down just at that moment, and the sharp shift in attention pulled a moan from Lance. Keith smirked to himself, and Lance frowned at the foul play. He didn’t argue with it though. Keith’s sort of foul play was always a good thing, really.

       Lance, particularly at moments like this, couldn’t help watching Keith. He wasn’t looking back at him. Instead he was watching his fingers trail over Lance, skating around bruises and more serious injuries with the same dreadful proximity. Lance trusted Keith with almost everything, from his life to his lion, but not to poke his bruises? Well, that wasn’t something he really could believe. So it kept him on edge every time he trailed over sensitive skin and skimmed the edge of an injury.

       He couldn’t ever quite relax no matter how many times Keith really _did_ just dust fingers over wounds harmlessly. He tried, but every time he tensed up again at the last second. He was waiting for the moment Keith finally _did_ press hard. It felt inevitable. He just had to watch Keith and wait. This wasn’t to say it was a bad situation. It didn’t take long before he was biting his lip and pretending he wasn’t entirely aroused by how concentrated Keith was with tracing calloused fingers over every inch of him. Just knowing he was the center of Keith’s attention so completely did something to Lance he couldn’t quite explain.

       Keith’s fingers finally found their way all the way back up to his face, his hand cupping his jaw and the thumb finding his lip again. His eye, which had been following his own hand, made the short leap from his thumb to Lance’s eyes. Finally, Keith broke from his half-lidded concentration and they caught Lance who continued unabashedly staring.

       Lance was impressed he’d made it all the way back while keeping to his promise, but he couldn’t let this sort of opportunity pass by. He parted his lips and pulled the thumb into his mouth, just enough to… bite it. Keith’s started with a gasp, not quite ready for words after the tense silence. Lance grabbed Keith’s hip with his good arm and pulled him down against him. He hissed in response as soon as Keith jarred against him, but it was worth it for the scandalized look on his face.

       Keith yanked his hand back and both went to Lance’s shoulders, “What happened to gentle?” he asked, looking down at Lance.

        “I changed my mind,” he informed with a cheeky grin.

        “Oh?” he asked, again the eyepatch shifted in what was certainly a lascivious look underneath. Lance couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, I never agreed to play rough,” Keith informed, pulling his thumb back up in front of Lance’s face. “I expect an apology,” he informed.

       Lance licked his lips and that was apparently enough. Keith pulled his hand back protectively to his chest, giving Lance an untrusting look. Lance couldn’t keep the Cheshire cat grin off his lips then. “What? I was gonna apologize,” he insisted, innocently

        “I don’t trust you,” Keith informed. Lance gasped, offended. _Keith_ didn’t trust _him_? Keith seemed to realize how unfair the tradeoff was and let out a sigh, offering his thumb back out with a preemptively scrunched up expression. He probably didn’t know he was making the face despite how very unsubtle it was. Lance raised his eyebrow, waiting to see if Keith would pull away. When he didn’t he leaned forward. Keith, to his credit, didn’t flinch. Lance kissed the pad of the thumb solidly and slowly.

       When Lance pulled back away, Keith let out a relieved breath and Lance replied by sticking out his tongue.

        “I told you I’d ap-,” Lance was cut off by Keith grabbing his face with both hands and pulling him into a hard kiss. Lance could feel his barely closed lip wound pulling dangerously apart, but Keith dropped his hips down and Lance couldn’t be bother to worry about anything but how hard Keith already was. He gasped into Lance’s mouth, as if he was surprised by his own action. Lance grabbed at Keith’s ass, keeping them pressed together, grinding through their clothes as Keith refused to let him catch his breath.

       Keith pulled away sharply, taking in a breath. “Here, wait,” he said, but he was getting up, hopping out of Lance’s lap and across their little, temporary home. Lance made some sort of protesting noise and tried to grab at him but his options were limited. He was really at Keith’s mercy and he wasn’t used to that. They usually were constantly bidding for control in any given situation. Lance wasn’t sure how he felt about this all, but Keith shimmying his pants off his hips as he came back over was incentive enough not to complain.

       He kicked the pants off his ankles and was about to straddle Lance again then he stopped, tossing something in his hand thoughtfully. “Actually,” he said, standing over Lance, so very, _very_ close and yet just out of reach.

        “Keeeith!” Lance groaned looking up at his boyfriend hovering above him. The view was not horrible, admittedly, but still!

       Keith blinked, confused and only then realizing he was ‘teasing’. Keith rolled his eye and didn’t respond. Instead he pushed his boxers down off his hips, leaving himself in only his tight black tank top. “Won’t really need those,” he said, more to himself instead of Lance. He tossed them back by his pants with his foot.

        “Yeah, no, definitely not,” Lance agreed eagerly, watching him step back over him and lower himself down. Every fiber of his being wanted to just grab him, but he wasn’t exactly capable of the level of groping he wanted at the moment. He did reach his good hand out and let it trail over whatever it could as Keith lowered himself back down. “I’m glad I at least have one hand,” Lance noted as he skimmed it down his chest, determined to push that shirt off him.

        “Actually, I have a job for it,” Keith informed matter-of-factly. He flipped out the lube he’d been tossing around earlier before Lance could complain. Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and flicked the lid open dripping some over his fingers.

        “Did you… bring lube on a mission?” he asked, looking up at Keith.

        “Hm?” Keith nodded, “Yeah, I always do when we have multi-day missions together,” he said. Lance opened his mouth but, well, fuck, thank god one of them was thinking ahead!

       Keith directed Lance’s hand around behind him and to his entrance without any other sort of preamble. He just about pushed a finger in with Lance’s at his eagerness to get Lance started. That made Lance even more eager to please, pushing his finger in and relishing the sighed moan that he earned instantly from Keith. Lance was pleased to say this was definitely something his long fingers were good for and he quickly set to opening Keith up, because he was clearly as impatient as Lance at the moment. Much practice and loving studies of the expressions and body language of Keith made it easy for Lance to tell when he was ready for a second finger. His brow lightening for a moment and then the twitch of his mouth that Lance knew would soon turn into ‘another’ if he let fate take its course. Instead, he pulled his finger out to slide a second one in with it before he had to. He barely gave Keith a moment to adjust before he turned his fingers and rubbed them over Keith’s prostate. Have to keep him on his toes.

       Keith melted downwards with that, holding back a full moan, but the choked back breath was almost as good. He was just barely hovering over Lance’s erection now as Lance added a third finger. It was honestly hard to only have one arm in commission for this. His other hand kept wanting to move and run over the rest of Keith left on display and completely untouched. It was just a tiny bit torturous as he watched Keith’s chest heave and trailed eyes down the leaking erection. He wanted to smear the precum with his thumb and bring it to his mouth to lick it off, just to watch Keith blush. He wanted to run hands up his chest and run rough finger tips over Keith’s nipples. He wanted to lick his way up his torso.

       The bastard was leaning back and away from him, leaving himself in full view, but not giving Lance the opportunity to do anything about it. He considered pulling him forward so he could bite his hip as he pushed his back down against Lance’s hand. Lance’s only course of action was to throw all that desire into fingering him, which mean he didn’t disappoint.

       Keith opened his eye, lids only managing to get halfway up as he tried to even out his breath. He met Lance’s and Lance made sure to hit his prostate with a particularly good thrust of his fingers. Keith’s eye rolled back for a moment and he barely caught that moan in his throat. Lance was getting closer to breaking his resolve. His eyes fixed on Keith, taking in every flex of muscle and twist in his expression.

       Keith looked back at him after a moment and then instantly looked away, a little bit of red appearing on his cheeks.

        “Goddamn it Lance, that’s unfair,” Keith breathed out, finally leaning in towards him.

        “It’s not my fault I have talented fingers,” Lance replied with a cocky smirk.

        “No that face,” Keith clarified with what Lance could only qualify as a pout. Lance was a little taken off guard by that. Keith was brushing his hand away then, though. Keith twisted around off his lap for a moment, reaching back towards his discarded pants. After a moment he grumbled and had to completely turn around, which annoyed him. He seemed determined not to stand up and just walk back to get whatever he was looking for. This just left him on his knees, ass in the air, reaching for something just out of reach. Lance nearly choked on his own saliva.

        “Okay no but that’s _actually_ unfair!” Lance insisted, because it was! And he couldn’t even get up and do anything about it. Keith looked back over his shoulder and blinked, completely oblivious looking. Lance didn’t even have words, he just was left to stare in wonder, mouth hung open with something between arousal and absolute outrage stuck in the pit of his stomach.

        “Oh,” Keith finally said with a half chuckle. He pushed himself up and back around, a telltale bright orange package in his hand. Lance wondered if intergalactic condom wrappers were intentionally the least inconspicuous thing in the world, but these things practically glowed in the dark. It didn’t matter much as Keith settled back on his lap, shoving him back against the wall with one hand and peeling the neon orange package apart with his other plus the assistance of his teeth. It was a habit of Keith’s he’d started after one night his particularly lubed up fingers had had a comically hard time opening the package up. The solution was an improvement on the whole process anyway. Lance never got tired of watching his bare his teeth and rip the package open while staring him down.

        “You ready?” Keith asked, giving himself just enough space to pull out Lance’s erection. Lance’s hips jerked when his dick was finally touched.

        “I’ve been ready for like two hours Keith!” Lance instantly replied with a belated breath coming out hard. Keith smiled to himself and gave Lance the lightest peck on his outraged lips before he rolled the condom on.

        “I didn’t notice your hard-on while we were on the battle field, but I suppose I wasn’t really looking for it…” Keith replied teasingly thoughtful.

        “I swear to god Keith, if you aren’t on my dick in like two seconds, I’m gonna--,” Lance started to threaten but apparently Keith wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed Lance’s one good arm and shoved it above his head, pinning it there. He leaned in close to Lance’s face.

        “You’re gonna what?” he asked. Lance’s brain worked hard to try to come up with an answer to that, but his mind had gone entirely blank so he was building from the ground up. Keith’s hand trailed down the arm and, for lack of anything else to do with it after it was released, he just left it there, still staring at Keith. “We have the same goal, babe. There’s no need for threats,” he added then, shifting forward. Lance just nodded.

       He reached behind himself and lined Lance up with his stretched hole. He took in a deep, calming breath, and Lance watched him with rapt attention as he slowly lowered himself down. They let out a satisfied breath in unison when Keith was fully seated on Lance. Keith let out a little snort at their coordination. Lance started to lower his arm, but Keith’s eye snapped up to it. He grabbed it and pushed it back against the wall. Lance didn’t bother protesting as Keith instantly pulled himself up and dropped back down on Lance’s dick, letting out another satisfied sigh. He quickly set a hard pace and Lance wouldn’t dream of interrupting it, even if Keith wasn’t leaning all his weight into that hand, pinning it there as he rode Lance.

       He was conscious of Lance’s injuries, for all his fervor. He made sure to keep from pressing into Lance too close, and crushing the arm in a sling or hitting any other wounds. He kept his leg far enough away from Lance’s right one to not hit stitches. He was considerate, but fucking not gentle anymore.

        “Keith,” Lance panted out. Keith could only hum in response, when Lance demanded his attention he opened his eye to look at Lance. Working his hardest to keep his voice even Lance said, “You are... and entirely adequate replacement right hand.”

        “Adequate my ass,” Keith growled, though he didn’t bother slowing. He let his eye slide shut again.

        “Yes, exactly,” Lance agreed.

        “Fuck you,” Keith panted, but Lance could see the bit of a smile twitching up the corners of his lips.

        “You already are,” he managed. Keith cracked and a laugh escaped him just as Lance pushed his hips up with his good leg. The laugh turned into a full blown moan that he was unable to catch in his throat before it got out and Lance had never been prouder.

       Keith dropped Lance’s hand to grab his face. What Lance could only describe as the most fucked out glare he’d ever seen or could have imagined met his eye, “I swear to god Lance,” Keith growled, but the threat was finished with Keith shoving their lips together. He grinned into the kiss and slipped his now free hand between them to wrap his fingers around Keith’s erection. Keith gasped into the kiss and pulled away, just resting their foreheads together as he fucked himself between Lance’s dick and his hand. After wrenching the first moan out of him the challenge of keeping quiet was apparently lost to Keith. Every gasp and moan tumbled about of him freely after that. There was something cute about ‘trying to stay quiet’ concentrated Keith, but ‘gasping and moaning Lance’s name’ uninhibited Keith was well worth the trade.

       It wasn’t too long before he clamped his mouth shut, though, after taking in a sharp inhale and Lance could feel him tense up. Lance knew exactly what this meant and kept working Keith’s dick as Keith didn’t even breath in those last few seconds, feeling his brow knit together pressed against his. He came into Lance’s hand, cum splattering over Lance’s chest as well.

       Finally, letting out a shaky breath, his eye opened up. He pulled away just enough for Lance to see that determined glint in his eye and he refused to stop moving despite the oversensitivity Lance knew all too well from firsthand experience post orgasm. But, fuck, that look, and the determination was enough for Lance and he thoughtlessly brought his hand up to tangle in Keith’s hair as he came barely seconds later.

       As soon as Lance was finished Keith’s legs gave and he let himself slump forward. To his credit, he leaned on the less injured side.

       When they’d caught their breath, Keith seemed to realize what Lance had done.

        “Oh… goddamn it Lance,” he groused, pulling back and pulling Lance’s hand out of his hair. He held the hand between them, giving it, and whatever cum was still on it, an accusatory glare.

        “Oh… whoops,” Lance said with a shrug.

        “Whoops? You got MY cum in my hair,” Keith growled.

        “Heh…I mean, it’s _yours_. Isn’t that better?” Lance didn’t mean to laugh, but…

        “No! Well—no! No definitely not,” he said, seeming thrown off by the very question.

        “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Lance agreed. Keith clearly was ready to argue more, but Lance had agreed so easy he seemed to realize there was no point in it.

       Once Keith had the energy to, he got himself up. He cleaned them off, in the process checking to make sure he hadn’t actually exacerbated any of Lance’s wounds by accident. He was, again, actually quite gentle. Lance would have to remember this next time Keith tried to lie and claimed he ‘was being gentle, you’re just whining’ to him. He let Keith take care of both of them either way, feeling doubly exhausted now. Actually, he let Keith just take care of everything after that. He was done, every bit of him aching from the day.

 

        “How long do you think they’ll be?” Lance asked, as he watched Keith move around their hideout. He’d, regretfully, put pants on, but it wasn’t surprising. The guy would sleep in his clothes if Lance didn’t practically change him into pajamas by force. Lance wouldn’t care so much if he didn’t also like to sleep practically on top of him. He refused to get stabbed by a belt buckle anymore and promptly got Keith some decent pajamas. It was still a pain when he’d come in and collapse on Lance, sweaty and fully dressed, straight in from training or a mission. He made himself impressively heavy when he didn’t want to move. That being said, he seemed content being in just his pants now. Pidge and Shiro must not be anywhere near them.

        “A quip before they’d be in orbit above us, another two if they miss our signal and do another round,” he said before heading back over. He brought one of the thin, uncomfortable blankets they’d brought with them. Lance hated them. They were papery and awful. Lance was a great sleeper, under the right circumstances, but on the ground with those horrible non-blankets... he’d barely been sleeping at all. This mission had only ended up as two days and Lance was already so ready for his nice, soft, bed in the castle. And his slippers, and robe, and his face scrub, and some proper goddamn all over sleep.

       Keith slipping under his good arm and curling up against him, and, well, that was some sort of consolation. Keith always had a sort of, ‘satisfied cat bathing in the sunlight’ feel so his post-coital cuddlings. At least, he did when he was on the receiving side. He liked to stretch out a little and then curl himself up, half laid over Lance. He was more likely to fret over Lance when things were the other way around and Lance couldn’t say he disliked either. Right now, though, a warm Keith to his side, forcing them to mold together as he shifted and shoved until they fit made the shitty blanket seem entirely okay. Lance barely even missed his bed.

       Lance leaned his head back and sighed, content despite the stitches and his arm in a sling. That would all be healed up soon enough. Now was time for a nap. It was probably almost a full earth day since he’d slept. That was a little more common since they’d moved onto Altaen time, but it was still a long stretch when it’s filled with patrols and fighting. He was just relaxing when he felt Keith’s fingers fussing with the blanket, twisting and tugging it in. Lance paused before he shifted a little to be able to look down at Keith.

        “What?” he asked. Keith paused, “What’s wrong?” After a moment Keith seemed to accept that Lance just _knew_. He probably didn’t know _how_ he knew, as Lance had noticed he wasn’t particularly aware of himself when he was mentally preoccupied.

        “I’m sorry,” Keith started. Lance knew better than to interrupt yet. After a pause he went on, “It was my fault you were put in danger. You were just supposed to have to cover me from the offensive lines, but I missed the squad flanking me.” His fingers clutched at the blanket tightly. “You shouldn’t have put your life at risk like that. You were lucky,” he added, his tone solemn.

        “Pfft, I don’t feel lucky,” Lance shot back, shifting his slung arm.

        “Lance…” Keith said in his ‘I’m being serious here’ tone.

        “Look, if I was about to get sniped by a Venvihn mercenary and you saw the shot coming at the back of my head, what would you do?” Lance asked, bluntly. Keith didn’t even need to think.

        “I’d take the shot.”

        “Are you going to ask me not to do the same?” he asked. Keith stilled for a moment. Lance waited. Keith’s fingers left the crinkly blanket to rest over Lance now. He curled in a little closer.

        “I guess that wouldn’t be fair, huh?” he asked. “But… I’m still the red paladin. It’s supposed to be my job,” he insisted. Lance snorted derisively at that.

        “Yeah, well, suck it,” he said. He was losing his edge. It’d be a long day in his defense. He kissed the top of Keith’s head to make up for the lame comeback and Keith seemed to accept this.

 

       They didn’t mean to fall asleep, but, well, no was going to be surprised to find the two of them cuddling anymore. At worst they would get a lecture from Shiro about not keeping a watch awake even post mission, but that seemed well worth it to Lance’s drifting consciousness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Before I forget! Shout out to [**this fanart of Team Voltron Older**](http://rinsfw.tumblr.com/post/150036949613/10-yearsss-%E3%85%82%D9%88) because I instantly fell in love with one eyed Keith.
> 
> I have snippits written for a bunch of other little voltron fics. I'll probably put all the Klance stuff in this series; there will probably be a couple more oneshots in this timeline. I'll probably post some Pidge stuff first tho. We'll see what I finish first.
> 
> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed my goofy attempt at smut!


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